Powerless

Raindrops as big as bubble gum balls fell on parts of Macon Saturday afternoon. It was, as we call it in the South, a real gully-washer. We haven’t seen too many of those this summer, so it was a welcome relief.

But I still have no idea what possessed me to drive from downtown out to Eisenhower Crossing in a storm that snarled traffic and knocked out power to several sections of town. I had been at a luncheon in north Macon and had gone back downtown to drop off a guest at the Crowne Plaza. It was the middle of the afternoon, and I was on a tight schedule to get home, change clothes, gather a few things and head back downtown.

Coach Billy Henderson and I were scheduled to sign books at the Willingham-McEvoy reunion, and where more than 900 people gathered at the City Auditorium in the classes of 1959-70 at the two schools.

You know how it is, though, when you get something on your mind. I needed an easel to display a large poster for the book, and the only place I could think of to get one on a Saturday afternoon was Michael’s, a large arts and crafts store.

The timing left a lot to be desired. I was in a hurry. The rain was coming down so hard I could barely see the road. My windshield wipers were on high, and it was still difficult to see.

When I arrived in South Macon, the power had gone out. I probably should have turned around right then, but I was trapped. It was not easy getting down Mercer University Drive because several of the lights were out over by the mall. The mall had lost power, too.

The trickiest part was trying to make a left turn onto Log Cabin Drive. Traffic was snarled. I still don’t see how I did it. I just took a deep breath and closed my eyes. (Well, maybe I didn’t close my eyes, but the deep breath was definitely there.)

The shopping center was like something out of a disaster movie. A fire truck was racing from store to store. A transformer had been struck by lightning somewhere on that side of the town and the power was out.

When I got to Michael’s it was quite an amusing scene. People were standing outside the automatic doors wanting to get in. Shoppers were inside the store waiting to get out.

Wanna trade places?

One lady pressed her nose against the glass. The people inside were like little animals in a cage. Let me out!!!! My imagination was beginning to get away from me. How much oxygen do they have in there?

I envisioned writing the obituary. Mae Ola Butterbawl died Saturday after suffocating in the floral department at Michael’s. In lieu of flowers -- since she was already surrounded by them at the time of her death -- donations can be sent to the Georgia Power relief fund. Prior to her death, Mae Ola was able to select her own wreath with a 25 percent off coupon.

There had been a birthday party inside the store when the lights went out, and they soon began letting the children and their parents out with their parents.

I don’t know why I stayed. I did see several friends who stopped by, so it was good to have somebody to talk with while I was waiting. I’m usually a pretty patient guy – except when it comes to shopping.

How long was I there? Probably an hour. Yeah, I know. It was crazy. I did laugh when one lady got tired of waiting and gave up. I heard her mumbling something about getting a rain check. I think she was serious.

When the power finally did come back on, and the lights and cash registers were working, I was in and out of there quicker than you can say: “My, that sure is a pretty Victorian Decoupage Box you have there!”

Yep, I bought it the afternoon the lights went out in Macon. At least it's a story I can tell my grandchildren.